The Id, the Ego, and the Superego
by Chephirah95
Summary: This story is from Steve's P.O.V. It's about how each of the Curtis boys are different and how they choose to handle their parents death. Also some behind the scenes stuff with the rest of the gang.
1. The ID, the Ego, and the Superego

_This is my first fanfic that is not a one shot. It took me a few days to get the details how I wanted them. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it._


	2. Thanks Johnny

**(Steve's P.O.V.)**

 **Thanks Johnny**

My English teacher Mrs. Porter assigned us a paper today. It has to be about how people react differently to a similar stressful situation. The stupid paper is worth 20% of my overall grade.

We just finished reading Lord of the Flies in class. Well, she read and most of the students slept. I kind of got the story though. I could really dig it ya know? I guess I'm like Simon. Only tougher. I wouldn't have went out like he did. I mean, Simon undertsood things. He was a loner and smart too. Common sense smart. He knew the score. He didn't go crazy like those other pansy's. The plane crashed and he kept it movin. He did what he needed to survive.

Everyone knows the weak die first. That's why that pig kid got killed. Too much book sense and not enough street sense. And them tribal kids! They're the Socs. They dress the same. Act the same. And share one brain between the lot of them. But the big time Soc was Jack. He wanted power for the sake of power. He had no direction. He ran everything into the ground and those little idiots followed him. Look at me getting all philosophical. I guess this is why they choose the books they do. Ugh. I sound like Ponyboy, always tryna relate my life with some make-believe story.

Anyways, my grades are ok. I bring home mostly C's and B's. But the way I figure, if I do enough on this paper I'll be on easy street for the rest of the semester. I have two weeks to turn the damn thing in. And of course she wants it in cursive _and_ in pen. Anything to make our lives harder is what she lives by.

Since I only go to school for half a day I took off during lunch. I figured I didn't need to chaperone Two-bit, Johnny, and Pony today. Cause Two-bit had his car. On my way to the DX I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout the paper. What the hell was I gonna write about?

I clocked in and found Soda in the garage workin' on a car. I know I'm usually quiet, but for whatever reason Soda is able to tell when I'm _purposely_ not talking. He slid from under the car and just looked at me. He wasn't asking me to explain anything. His eyes were demanding it. I spilled. But not before a few "well intended" moments of stalling.

"Got a write a paper for English. I need a B."

"You know I've never been good at the school stuff."

I never told Soda in so many words, but he knows I hate it when he rags on himself about bein' dumb. Hell, anyone would think they were dumb if they had the brothers he had. Pony and Darry are real good at the academic thing. If you compare your grades to theirs you _setting_ yourself up for failure.

"How about you write about cars?"

"Huh?"

"You know. How different people act and stuff when they get a flat tire or somethin'. You got the ones who tell you their life stories, the ones who cuss up a storm, the ones who try to tell you how to do your job-"

"I don't think Mrs. _Porker_ wants to hear about batteries and carburetors." Soda just smiled. I know he's my best buddy and all, but sometimes the guy is just strange.

After work I made my way over to my place, but seeing my dad's truck out front I decided to head on over to the Curtises. It's been strange with them gone, but I guess everybody is getting on.

I walked into the house unannounced and dropped onto the couch. Something is missing. Besides the obvious. No one else was here yet. I guess Soda was picking up Ponyboy from school today. No sooner than I had closed my eyes the door opened. It was Johnny.

"Hey man. Where's Dal? He ain't been over in a while." He looked past me before answering, like he was afraid someone might hear him.

"You know Dal…" He paused. I wanted to tell him he wouldn't be betraying Dallas if he said anything, but who am I to talk? If it was Soda you wouldn't get a peep out of me either. I barely heard him when he started speaking again.

"I guess this is how he's grieving ya know? With them not bein' here and all. Just don't wanna stick around so much right now." That was a lot coming from Johnny. The kid barely speaks.

But what Johnny said got me to thinking about that paper. How differently people act in a similar situation and all. Dally is reluctant to come to the house. I guess he figures if he's not here, he can forget they ain't either. Two-bit cringes when he jokes about his own Ma. Like he ain't got the right to do it no more. The thing is, when he does talk about his Ma, he'll get real quiet after, like he just realized he shouldn't have said something. This just puts us in an awkward silence. And since the only talkers are him and Soda, it stays quiet for a while too. Johnny pretends his problems aint real. Knowin' him, he's probably thinking he's got no room to complain. Especially now. Not that he ever complains anyways. Even I changed. Me and Soda used to bug Darry a lot about dating and stuff. I don't do it so much now though. He's got enough to worry about. I had an idea of what I was going to write about though.

"Thanks Johnny!" He looked up, startled I had spoken. We had been sitting in comfortable silence. But before he could comment the door swung open and the guys filed in.

I got to work writing that paper in my history class the next day. No one pays attention and Mr. Graves barely teaches. He believes we're all a lost cause. Most of us are. I have no choice but to do it in this class. It's my last one before lunch, and if I don't do it now, I won't have time to do it anywhere else. I work, I can't do _anything_ at my place, and I won't let the kid see me doing class works as much as I razz him about his!

I got a general idea going. It's about Soda, Darry, and Pony. How they all reacted different after their folks died. Only, in my paper, I ain't usin' names. I'll let it be open to interpretation. Soda is the ID, Darry the EGO, and Ponyboy the SUPEREGO.

I remembered hearing something about this last year. The ID is the guy who don't do a whole lot of thinkin' and plannin. They're instinctive and reckless. The EGO is all about what is. These guys are rooted in reality. They don't think about what could be. The SUPEREGO, well, they're the feely type. You know. Everything has to be analyzed with them. Is it right or wrong? Why did this happen? They can't just accept the fact that shit happens and life ain't fair.


	3. Soda is Soda

" _His eyes are dark brown-lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes that can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next."_

People like to think we're polar opposites because I never smile, and he never stops. That just shows you how caught up on appearances folks can be. We may have different motives for doing stuff, but we mostly act the same. My temper is quick, but so is his.

I remember that time he fought that kid on Cypress street. Me and Soda were walkin' around hunting up some action. The dumb kid had the nerve to say something about how much of a mama's boy Soda was. This was long before they died. Soda said he couldn't stay out all night because his mom wanted him home early. I'll admit, I was upset a little more than I thought I would be. Not just because Soda is my best bud, but because I was lookin forward to seein Mrs. C too. I felt he was talking about me too. And I ain't no mama's boy. But before I could even sneer at the guy Soda was all over him.

His eyes were blazing. They didn't transform or slowly change neither. They just were. He didn't give any warning. He just snapped. I stood there backing him in case anybody else wanted to join in. I kind of hoped they would. I was wanting to smash the guy's face in a little myself. But this was Soda's fight. I knew he didn't want my assistance this time. Not that he needed it. They guy's pals stayed out of it. Soda was all energy and anger. And before I knew it, he was finished.

The dude lay slumped over on the concrete and when I looked back at Soda his eyes were shining again. Just like that. Like nothing even happened. We walked back to his place without speaking. He was whistling some catchy tune. I just looked over at him, and he must have felt my eyes on him because he turned and just smiled at me.

"Aw, come on Stevie. Don't look at me like that. That guy had it comin' to him."

"Pssh. I'm glad you done it. He shouldn't have said that. You ain't no mama's boy." I was glad he beat that guy. I stopped talking when I heard him laughing.

"-But I am a mama's boy!" We made eye contact and burst out laughing.

"So why did ya do it then huh?"

"Because he was talkin about my Ma!"

We laughed again and that's how Mrs. C found us when she walked onto the porch.

"What are my two boys laughing at?"

We just laughed more while she rolled her eyes good-naturedly and went back into the small house. I never told anyone, but I kinda liked it when she called me her boy too. It made me feel like me and Soda were really brothers.

When the Curtis' died a lot of Soda went with them. The first thing he did was quit school. I kind of felt bad that he did too. He says it's because he was wasting time there and wasn't no good at it, but I think a lot of it had to do with bills. Darry is a great guy and all, but a blind man could see he was strugglin. Oh, he put up a good fight with Soda about staying in school. I had hoped Soda would listen, but like I said, at the end of the day Darry is Mr. reality. He needed the help and Soda was willing. I guess it helped that Soda had been talking about dropping out a lot that year. Darry didn't feel as guilty I guess.

This is how Soda is the ID. He acts before he thinks a lot of the times. Got us into a lot of fights because of it too, but I'm not complaining. Soda's natural reaction is to brighten up the mood. So, during his parents repast, he naturally tried to liven the tension in the room. He tried to make a few jokes, but it was so obvious he was hurting that he only got pity laughs. Soda hates pity. He says it's wasted emotion. Pity don't have no fun.

In class I took out pen and paper. I wrote:

 _You are never truly prepared to lose anyone, and losing someone close to you makes it that much harder. You have a split second to choose how you're going to cope. Will you try to get things like they used to be, ignore that anything changed, or will you lose yourself to_ _grief_ _sorrow? The way I see it, there are three types of people in the world: the doers, the thinkers, and the feelers. In the event of death-_

"Dammit Two-bit!" Did I mention that idiot is in my history class? He snatched my paper and shot me a weird look.

"What? You actually takin Mrs. Porter's essay seriously?!" I swear that guy goes to school for kicks. To _school_!

"It's a paper, not an essay. And if you had half a brain you'd get it done so you can finally be a senior."

"Shucks! You sound like my Ma. You know that ain't never gonna happen."

"Yeah, well maybe you oughta listen." I shot him a mean glare. He must have picked up my mood because he stopped bothering me and moved on to Mr. Graves.

When I got to the parking lot Two-bit, Pony, and Johnny were already there.

"Hey! There's Mr. Brainiac!" Great, he must have told the kid because Pony was looking at me like I had grown an extra head.

"Yeah? Well, don't wanna turn out like you eh?" Two-bit just laughed it off. We all piled into his truck and headed to the DX.

"Two-bit told me you were working really hard on that paper and all." I could hear the laughter in his voice.

"Gosh, who didn't he tell?"

"Cut him some slack. You know he was just joshin."

"Joshin' my foot. I gotta get that thing done-"

"What did you decide to write about anyhow?" I briefly wondered if Two-bit had read the whole paragraph and told Soda about it. I decided to do something I hadn't done in a while. I lied to Soda.

"I went with the car thing. I figure if she can tell I know what I'm talking about, she'll give me an A easy. Ya dig?" I hoped I sounded as sincere as I pretended to. He just looked at me a little weird and said cool. I can't shake the feeling that he knows I'm lying. But that's Soda for you. Always giving me the benefit of the doubt.

Two-bit skipped class today, and for once I was thankful. Usually me and him would start up trouble in here, but I needed to work on that paper.

 _In the event of death no one is safe from its effects. Not the doers, the thinkers, or the feelers._

I finally got the opening paragraph done. Since the first paragraph's about Soda, I didn't have a lot of trouble writing it. What can I say? I know the man.

 _The world can't function without the doers. They make up the ID group. They might not think about the consequences all the time, but who would want to live in a world where they aren't there? No action? No nothing? Nobody, that's who. So when death comes knocking on the door, they answer it. These doers are efficient in making things seem ok. If they hurtin' don't you fret, they'll work it out. No need to whine about it. Sometimes it seems like they have it the hardest. They don't take the time to understand why they do the things they do. It's like it scares them to know why they did what they did. People like this rely on their instincts mostly. Rationale makes stuff complicated. So how do they cope with the death of a loved one? They throw themselves into doing the things they love. Stuff they're good at. It makes them feel accomplished, like the ones they lost will be proud of them for continuing to live._

I know my grammar ain't all that great, but she'll be lenient with us. Besides, most of the class won't even bother to turn anything in.


	4. Not Even Darry

_"He doesn't understand anything that is not plain hard fact. But he uses his head."_

Darrel Curtis is the oldest of his brothers. I don't envy him the task. If I'm being honest he's all of our big brother. Except maybe Dallas. Yeah, ole Dal finally started coming around again. It brought on a new round of awkward moments. You can tell he didn't know how to act. Good thing for Johnny though. He mostly kept Dally in line.

Because he's a thinker, he ain't got a lot of imagination. The poor guy works out for fun. I know he loves his muscles and all, but what good do they do him when he ain't even interested in dating? He'd probably give Soda a run for his money. He was pretty popular with the ladies before everything happened.

It was taking me a lot longer to write about Darry, and I'm not sure why. It ain't real hard to get him down. He sees a problem, he thinks of the best way to approach it, and he get's it done. Real simple. But it's got to be more than that.

I was walking home from work today. I let Soda borrow my car today. When I passed the field we play football in I saw Johnny's jacket. I didn't think much of it until I heard some little moaning noises a few yards away. It was Johnny and he was real roughed up.

I ran to him and told him to hold on. I don't think he heard me. I sprinted to the Curtises and stormed into the house out of breath.

"It's Johnny." I didn't need to say anything else. They all jumped to their feet and followed me.

Johnny lay motionless and for a split second I know we were all thinking the same thing. Is he dead? Luckily, Soda called his name because he heard him. Johnny cried for a bit. I think they really did a number on him this time. He ain't gonna shake it off real easy this time.

I don't think I've ever seen Dally so angry and frustrated before. He looked ready to kill anyone who got in his way. We carried Johnny back to the house and patched him best we could.

"What do we do now?" We all unconsciously looked at Darry. He's basically the leader. But even he looked a little stumped.

"We lay low. Let Johnny heal before we do anything else."

"That's it?" It was Dallas.

"Yeah, we gotta use our heads and think here. We're one man short, and we don't know who did this." That was about the worst thing Darry could have said to Dally. Think about it. Dally was a doer, like Soda. They both looked at Darry like he was crazy. Think about it? Who did it? It was the Socs, and that's all they needed to know. Any Soc would do. Dally had taken off after that and I needed some air. Darry wasn't gonna let Soda out of the house in the state he was in, but I think it was more Pony who got him to stay. The kid looked like the Socs were gonna break into the house and finish Johnny off at any second.

I took my car to Buck's and got a beer. Somebody grabbed my arm. I turned ready to swing. It was just Dally. He said we were gonna get even. I didn't ask questions. I just followed him. We went looking for trouble and we found it.

We spotted a group of Soc's by the lake. A lot of kids hang here. Greasers and Socs alike. Dally ran full speed and jumped on one of them. I was right behind him, but I couldn't help but think that this ain't helping Johnny none. Johnny wouldn't want us fighting on his behalf. But then one of the Socs called me a greaser and I forgot about Johnny.

We went back to Buck's high off of the fight. Me and Dally usually don't buddy around without Soda and Two-bit there, so it wasn't a lot of talking. But the one thing we both had in common was our love of fighting. Don't matter much the reason, it's the release. Now that I think about it, me and Dally are only ever alone when we're doing something illegal. Soda ain't into that kind of trouble, and Two-bit is too lazy. Johnny and Ponyboy ain't the type either.

We got drunk after that, but I still drove home.

It was two days before things wound down again. Me and Soda were playing cards and Two-bit was busy trying to get Pony to write his paper for him. But Darry told him to lay off. Then Ponyboy surprised me.

"Why don't you ask Steve to help you? He's been real studious lately."

I would have said something back but everybody seemed to be in a good mood. Even Johnny. That and Soda threw me a look not to take it seriously. So I chose to ignore Ponyboy. Then Dally asked to see Johnny outside. We were all curious, but if Dallas wanted to see him in private it wasn't none of our business.

Come to find out, Dally gave Johnny a switch. It wasn't nothing fancy or anything. Johnny don't like to take stolen stuff and Dally knows that. But at this point I don't think Johnny would care if it was Tim Shepard's switch. He took it and carried it with him everywhere he went.

I started that paragraph about Darry.

 _The thinkers keep us grounded. They're the type that remind us of deadlines and laws and stuff. Not the real lives of the party, but we need them all the same. The EGO are the hardest on themselves. They see a problem and want to fix it in the most logical way. Every situation is black or white in their eyes, but you can't fix every problem._

I thought about how Darry didn't cry at the funeral. Actually, I still don't think he's cried. He probably doesn't have the time to. He picked up two jobs, handled the funeral arrangements, and became a parent overnight. I would offer to help them out since I practically live there, but Darry is proud. He'd kill me before I got to offer. Soda and Ponyboy bawled. Johnny cried silently and Two-bit wouldn't look at anyone. I may have teared up a little bit, but at least I was there. Dally didn't show. He got arrested for something. I woulda thought he wouldn't have missed it for the world. If anyone didn't show, my money would have been on Two-bit. He ain't exactly the somber type. But no it was Dally. I can't bring it up to Soda, but I think it was on purpose. I don't think he could handle it. That's just like him though. It's easy to pretend like you don't feel anything when you have to live like he does.

The thing is, his being arrested actually helped. It was like at least _he_ was still the same. That's one thing that would never change. And right then, we were all looking for normalcy. _(Read My Story Two Sides of the Same Coin to see Dallas' P.O.V.)_

" _Why you ask? Because every problem ain't got a solution. You can't bring people back from the dead, as much as you would like to. The one's who fall into this group refuse to feel for long. They believe if they always think ahead, then life can't keep surprising them. But it's just not possible to be prepared for everything. I wish they knew that. Sometimes it's okay to get upset and figure out why later. Sometimes it's okay to question what you can't change. I don't know anyone who has all of the answers. But if I ever run into one, I'm gonna refer a few people to him._

In English today Mrs. Porter reminded us that our paper's were due in a few days. She made sure to stress that summer school was always an option. If I knew anything it was that these kids would wait until the night before to write their papers, if at all.


	5. Ponyboy Feels Too Much

" _Things were rough all over, but it was better that way. That way you could tell the other guy was human too."_

Soda told me about the kids nightmares. They both can't get no sleep, so Soda sleeps in his room now. It's not the sorta thing I would razz him about. I used to get nightmares too when I was real little. Mostly about my dad. Anyways, no sleep is nothing to joke about.

He says the doc says Pony has an overactive imagination. I could have told them that! Of course he does. The kid never does anything except space out, read, and draw. It's no wonder him and Darry ain't been getting along. Pony is trying to escape reality, while Darry is trying to grasp it. They just can't understand that they cope differently. But I know Soda gets it. He's the one that has to calm them down. It ain't always easy being in the middle. It's easier to pick one side.

I don't know how he did it, but Two-bit got Darry to go to Buck's with him. I wish I could be a fly on the wall. But Darry needs this. He ain't had no fun since he became a parent. _(To see Darry & Two-bit's view on this read Like Father Like Son). _

Ponyboy's chapter has me stumped. There's a lot that I could say, but it doesn't seem adequate somehow. How do you write about a guy who fantasises all the time, but never says what it is they're fantasizing about? I went back over my paper today. I almost switched Ponyboy and Darry, but I didn't. It's like this. Ponyboy thinks, but that's all he does. And what he thinks about ain't real. It's not reality. It's what he would like to see happen, how he wishes things were. He is the Superego.

It's not just Socs and Greasers to him. He thinks we're all one in the same. Just with different circumstances. I say bull. If I had money, I wouldn't be in this neighborhood causing trouble. We got enough problems without them adding to it.

The social worker came over today. I guess it just hit me that my best buddy could be taken away. Darry was real anxious. Soda and Ponyboy looked like they were being dragged to the slaughterhouse. After the lady left I took Soda out. We went drag racing. It didn't take long for him to forget about the social worker.

I think I finally have the third paragraph down.

 _The feelers are what remind us that we all have flaws. No one is perfect, and no situation is cut and dry. They are the superego. They care about morals and deeper meanings. It's not enough to look at the surface of things. They make up theories for how and why everything takes place. They are your conspiracy theorist, politicians, and revolutionaries. I'm not sure how much they get done, but we need them too. Cause when the status quo don't work no more, they look for other routes. Grieving is a difficult process for them, but especially death. To them death is a being of it's own. When someone dies they aren't just not here anymore, they're somewhere else. They want to know where, if they can still see them, can they communicate, those kinds of things. In order to cope with a loss, the feeler surrounds himself with the things he understands. And that's fantasy. Because you can't be wrong about make-believe stuff. You are in control. I don't pity them, because they are slaves to their own minds. They feel to the point of distraction._

My paper is due in three days, and I'm almost done. I just need to wrap things up.

When I get to my English class there are a lot of students from the A class in there. Pony is sitting with them. Apparently they're here to edit our papers. Dumb teacher. There was no need to bring in their whole class, only a handful of people had anything done. Most of them A class students are Socs who were turning their noses up at us. But they were getting graded.

The teachers let us pick our own partners, and those who didn't have anything done were told to start today. I could see Ponyboy expected me to go to him even though he didn't look thrilled about it, but I walked right past him and handed my paper to some snobby looking kid. He barely made eye contact while he looked over my paper.

I know Pony thinks I didn't choose him because I don't like him, but really I can't let him see what I wrote. He's a smart kid, even without their using their names he would have known the paper was about his family. I ignored the angry glances I'm sure were aimed at my back.

For a while I thought the kid would never get done reading my paper. When he finally looked at me his eyes held disbelief. He claimed my paper was great with a few grammatical errors here and there. I told him to fix them, but he said it made my paper seem more realistic that way.

He took my paper, without my permission of course, up to our teachers and explained to them that I needed to keep in the errors. Mrs. Porter looked surprised but quickly agreed, the other teacher read my paper himself. I guess he didn't want any of his students to think they didn't have to do their part. He threw a look my way and said it was fine, to leave the paper like it was.

When I got my paper back Ponyboy stopped in front of me. We had a few minutes until the bell rang. People were mostly talking now.

"What do you want kid?"

"Why didn't you just pick me to be your partner? Thanks to you I got stuck with a guy that can barely spell his own name." Didn't I say he thinks too much? The kid is ballsy I'll tell you that much, but it really wasn't none of his business.

"Because I didn't have to." The bell rang and I started to walk off.

"They liked your paper so it must be good. Do you just not want me to see it?" He didn't know how close he was to the truth so I just ignored him and kept talking.

When I got to work Soda was busy arranging the snack bar. So I went to the back to check in. When I came back he and Ponyboy were in deep conversation. I swear that kid will be the death of me.

After Pony left with Johnny and Two-bit to head back to school Soda came to me.

"I heard your teacher liked your paper so far." I'm not one to beat around the bush.

"You mean you heard I didn't let your kid brother read my paper?" He laughed.

"Yeah that." We stayed silent for a few minutes until he broke it.

"You ain't writing about cars are you?" I was a little shocked. I thought he believed me when I lied. I guess he knows me as well as I know him.

He gave me a little smirk and said he knew I was hiding something. I thought for a second that he knew it was about him. I would tell him, but I'm not sure he's ready yet. What he said next let me know he didn't know the full story.

"So… what is it about? I can't remember the last time I was interested about a paper!"

I wanted to lie to him, but I see now that it would be useless.

"How about I let you read it when it's done?" Why did I say that? Where did that thought even come from?

If I'm being honest here, I guess I kind of want someone to read it. Someone who's opinion I value. The first paper I truly work on, and I, Steve Randle, want acknowledgement.

"OK. When you get it back I'll read it."

We stopped talking about the paper.


	6. It's Done

" _A guy that'll really listen to you, listen and care about what you're saying, is something rare."_

I kind of rushed the conclusion. I remember Mrs. Porter sayin how the last paragraph should really be the first paragraph, just in different words.

 _Death doesn't affect everyone the same. It makes people do stupid things, brave things, even strange things. But no matter who you are, how rich, or how strong, you won't be the same after it hits close. And you shouldn't be. As hard as it is to understand it, it's still a learning experience. It's a big part of life actually. So you can work your way out of it, think around it, or feel through it, and no way is wrong. But you must make your split second decision on how you are going to handle it._

We turned in our papers today. And what do you know, Mrs. Porter smiled at me, but I didn't forget the way that same face would fix itself into a sneer, so I just sat my paper on her desk and walked away.

She droned on and on about how she hoped we took our papers seriously, and that she didn't want to read another story about losing a pet or some shit like that. A pet? Really? That just proved my theory that most of the class who bothered to turn in their assignment waited until the night before to start on it. Better than a zero I guess.

"So how did ya do?"

"Soda I just turned it in today?"

"But what did she say?"

"Nothin- alright she smiled at me."

"I knew it. Forget that B. You're gonna get an A."

I couldn't help but share in his excitement. All the time I spend with him, and even I'm not immune to his charms.

"Yeah! Then I can sleep in her class for the rest of the year."

I didn't realize how anxious I was to get my paper back, but at the same time I'm worried about Soda's reaction.

Me, Soda, Two-bit, and Dally hit the strip. There was action everywhere. It's been awhile since it's been just the four of us. We ran into Shepard and he filled us in on the night's events. Who was mad at who, who jumped who, and who dated who.

Everything was going fine, until Sylvia walked up. Dally's back was to her and he was currently talking to some random broad.

"Who is this?" I swear I saw Dally's eye's light up. We all knew they were taking a break, so I guess Dally figured he had won whatever contest it is that they have going.

"This is Beth-"

"My name is Rachel!" The girl looked indignant. Sylvia cut in.

"I don't care who you are tramp! Get lost. This hood is mines." People started milling around. Then all hell broke loose. The Rachel chick threw Dally's coke all over Sylvia. Big mistake. There was a lot of hair pulling, name calling, and cat whistles thrown around. Dally didn't even try to break it up. He was basking in the attention.

After someone alerted us the fuzz were on the way we quickly dispersed. Dally left with Sylvia. Since the numbers were odd now, Two-bit found himself a pretty blonde. We spent the next few hours drinking and acting wild.

It took exactly one week and 3 days to get my paper back. I went straight to the DX after history, handed it to Soda, and went to find a car to work on. If anyone asks it's not because I was scared or nothin. I just wanted to give him some space to read it. Who wants someone standing iver their shoulder reading behind them?

About an hour later I felt, rather than saw, Soda's presence. He just looked at me and gave me back my paper.

"Thank you!" I was startled.

"For what?"

"For not letting Pone read this. He ain't ready yet. He's just barely 14 ya dig?" I knew he would put two and two together. I knew he knew I overlooked Ponyboy to edit my paper because I was looking out for him.

"Were you ready?" He gave me a teary smile.

"Yeah. I was." I thought that would end our conversation, but it didn't.

"Ya know Stevie? Ya dig real good."

"So do you man."


End file.
